


For Him

by sweetboybucky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Nomad Steve Rogers, Originally Posted on Tumblr, That is all, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wakanda (Marvel), White Wolf Bucky Barnes, and tease each other, two grandpas watch the sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 03:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16421354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetboybucky/pseuds/sweetboybucky
Summary: Blinding sunshine reaches him from a burnt orange sky, evening fast approaching. And he watches it. Admires the way the sun sinks toward the horizon, begins its journey to other parts of the world. Readies itself to find someone new.Steve turns and finds someone familiar.(OR: Two pretty boys under a Wakandan sunset.)





	For Him

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Troye Sivan's "for him.", a song that I have been listening to on repeat for days and always gives me Stucky feels.

Wakanda is beautiful.

It strikes Steve every time he’s allowed to see it. When the wandering settles enough for a visit, when he can rest in the grassy field, that little hut sitting quietly just behind him. The place that feels as close to home as Steve thinks he’ll get, now.

Blinding sunshine reaches him from a burnt orange sky, evening fast approaching. And he watches it. Admires the way the sun sinks toward the horizon, begins its journey to other parts of the world. Readies itself to find someone new.

Steve turns and finds someone familiar.

Walking across the threshold of his home, a little rumpled from the peaceful nap he fell into a few hours ago. Soft red cotton lining his body, light gray swathed over the expanse of his left shoulder. Dark scruff covering his jaw and cheeks, mussed hair falling around his neck. Lips set into a pretty line as those steely eyes take him in.

Bucky smiles.

God - Steve missed that.

“Hey.” His voice is gentle as ever, calling Steve home as Bucky takes the few steps through the grass, plants himself on the ground next to him. Teeth bare. Head tips. An arm reaches for him, hooks itself around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him in.

“Hey,” Steve answers, the response pressed into Bucky’s hair, lips kissing the same spot only moments later.

Bucky pushes back enough to look at him, hand settling on Steve’s bearded cheek as those eyes trace over him. And Steve watches the way the light brushes along the sharp lines of his face, softens him into something akin to the man Steve knew so long ago.

Bucky is beautiful. Happy.

Steve is glad.

Lips find his after a few seconds. Teeth nip at his mouth and Steve can feel that grin pressing against him, so sweet. Something he’s missed more than he could ever explain. A smile he wants to trace with his fingers, draw into his mind until it’s all he can see.

He pulls back to look at it, to look at Bucky, and finds his own face softening just a little.

“You have a nice nap?”

A laugh draws from Bucky’s lips at the question, careful and light. So completely Bucky it makes affection thrum in Steve’s chest.

“Would’ve been nicer if you’d joined me,” Bucky teases, bumping his shoulder into Steve’s.

Steve shrugs. Smiles as he answers, “Wanted to watch the sunset.”

Bucky looks at him for a long moment. And it makes Steve wonder why he ever chose look at anything over that face. Those soft eyes, the little tick of Bucky’s mouth and the pretty hair framing his face. It makes Steve not care if the sun ever sets again.

Face tips toward the golden sky. Steely eyes trace the line of the horizon as a calloused palm reaches across Steve’s lap to lace their fingers together.

Those eyes set on Steve again, just long enough for Bucky to say, “Yeah, sunset’s pretty special here.”

Steve squeezes Bucky’s hand. “Lots of special things here, Buck.”

A dark eyebrow quirks. An expression settles onto Bucky’s face, one Steve has longed to see in his time away. In the dark hours he’s roaming the world, waiting until he can come back to Bucky, until he can go home. One full of unspoiled joy, teasing edging its way in.

“Lots?”

“Lots,” Steve answers. He lifts his hand, gestures to the left of them and says, “The goats are pretty nice.”

Another laugh parts Bucky’s lips. Makes him tip his head back just a little, his eyes slipping shut for a moment and his teeth baring. Steve finds a grin of his own looking at that blissfully happy face.

“That plant is real special, too,” Steve continues, pointing to a small, spiky thing growing a few feet in front of them. And he feels a shove from an impossibly gentle hand. Turns back to find the man he’s known for one hundred years looking so beautiful - so, so beautiful.

Like always.

“You think you’re so funny, huh, Rogers?” Bucky teases. 

“Nope,” Steve says, turning and pressing his hand against Bucky’s chest. Pushing him down onto the grass. Hovering over him and feeling a new wave of warmth wash over his skin at Bucky’s surprised laughter. “I  _ know _ I’m funny.”

Fingers scratch against the hairs at the nape of Steve’s neck. Pinch the skin there. The little crinkles near Bucky’s eyes catch the light as he grins at Steve’s short protest.

“All those punches to the head finally caught up to you, Stevie.”

Steve softens at the nickname, at the tease. Presses just a little closer to Bucky, settles his palm on Bucky’s cheek and watches as Bucky turns his head to kiss it. Whispers, “Guess they did,” a little quieter than he meant to.

Bucky’s expression grows impossibly fond, soon enough. Light spills over his cheeks and ghosts over his hair, covering the strands with a faint golden hue.

“It’s a good thing you’re handsome, then,” Bucky tells him.

And then he’s kissing him.

Slow and sweet in that way Steve longs for when he can’t have it. When he can’t smile against lips so achingly familiar. Push his hands against a once weary chest, through the dark hair tickling his skin.

But it’s this, these little pockets of time he’s allowed to carve with Bucky, that make it all worth it.

The way Bucky smiles at him, just the same as he did on that threadbare couch in 1938. The way he snuffles against Steve’s neck at night, relaxes into the curve of his body. The little sounds he makes when Steve kisses him awake on the mornings they’re together. The way his eyes light up when he comes across something new.

The warmth Steve feels with him, lighting over his skin and making a home in the softest corner of his heart.

Not even seventy years of frost could dampen that.

Steve has chased Bucky through time. And it sings sweet in Steve’s soul, knowing that, despite everything, they’ve still managed to find each other every time.

Because it’s the little moments that Steve lives for now. Feeding the goats and squeezing into Bucky’s tiny bed and making breakfast together that make all of that searching worth it. All of the pain and the struggle and the heartache.

Bucky is worth it.

Bucky will always be worth it.

Steve pulls away after a few minutes of trading lazy kisses. Traces the line of Bucky’s jaw with his fingers, watches the way his eyes shine with the evening sun and the affection Steve can see in his gaze.

“I’m glad you’re here, Steve.” And it’s so soft. So gentle, the way Bucky’s lips form the words. The way his hand slips down to the top of Steve’s spine, presses into his skin and rubs circles there.

Steve looks at him, his handsome soldier, for a long moment. Thanks whatever being gave them this, this moment to just be. To live and breathe each other in. For Steve to hold Bucky and for Bucky to hold Steve.

And God - he would do anything to keep it. To make this moment last forever, to keep that smile on Bucky’s face. Steve would reign in the moon, snatch one of Bucky’s favorite stars if he asked.

For him.

Steve would do anything.

It’s the only thing on his mind as he leans down and catches Bucky’s lips in another kiss.

It’s the only thing that matters.


End file.
